Back to Normal
by becky2102
Summary: Olivia battles the flu, and, of course, her relationship with her partner.
1. Chapter 1

**6:50AM The Friday Before Thanksgiving.**

Olivia dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen, glaring at the coffee pot as if it should be making the coffee on its own. Twenty minutes later she walked into the precinct, which was already buzzing with the morning rush, uniforms and street cops busy at their desks and white boards. She dropped into her desk chair with a thud. Her head was pounding, her chest hurt to breathe and none of that was helped by the lousy sleep she'd gotten the night before, kept up by a cough she couldn't shake. They'd all been late at the precinct trying to find the guy responsible for a rash of kidnappings and sexual assaults on the Upper West Side. They'd all gone home after 1am with plans to meet at 7am sharp to plan their stakeout. Here she was, exhausted, a pounding headache and still 10 minutes late.

Munch looked over at her as she sat down. She glared back "So what's our game plan? Anyone have any brilliant ideas overnight?"

"You alright, Benson?" Munch asked. "You don't look like you slept at all"

"Yeah, fine Munch, just drop-" A rebuttal which might have been more convincing if she hadn't started coughing in the middle of it. She sat down on the edge of her desk, head hanging forward, eyes tearing and bloodshot. It felt so warm in the bullpen, she grabbed her coat and sweater and peeled them off, feeling sweat dot her forehead.

Fin eyeballed her from the whiteboard. "Liv, you shouldn't be here, you look like death warmed over"

"Plus you'll just contaminate the whole place, last thing I need is your swine flu" Munch piped in.

He looked over at Elliot who shook his head at them. "Don't look to me for help, I've fought that battle. I lose every time. For the record though, Liv, you look like you should go home."

"Leave it guys, I'm fine and not going home. Now, Central Park, 1pm? What's the plan?" Giving the white board with the map of the park a once over, she could see the sites of the assaults and the outline of the plan that the Captain and Huang had developed overnight.

Fin was still giving her a look that said he wasn't buying a word of what she said as she walked toward the screen.

11AM

Four hours later they were camped out along one of the Central Park jogging paths. The November sky had darkened and was threatening rain, but so far the roads were dry and joggers and bikers were frequent along the path. Fin and Munch went over the plan with the uniformed officers. As they walked to their posts, Fin glanced at Elliot and Olivia surreptitiously. "$50 bucks says Olivia is the one that collars him."

"No way," Munch replied "With that cough she won't keep up with Elliot or with Reyes. She'd still kick your ass though."

"And I'd kick yours old man. We got a bet or not?"

Their suspect was a regular, jogging miles through the winding trails frequency. Dressed in jogging gear, Olivia and Elliot were undercover. Fin was strolling about 50 yards to the West and Munch was hugging a bench to the east of the path. A couple of unmarked cars with uniforms sat down the road. All they needed was for their guy to show and make his move.

Their wires buzzed as their lookouts called in a sighting at the park entrance. The two partners set off jogging.

Elliot came up behind their suspect from a side path, about 10 yards behind him, with Olivia trailing to the right another 10 yards behind her partner. He was gaining on the suspect as he saw Olivia catching up on him on the right. The suspect glanced over his shoulder and seeing Elliot, set off in a sprint.

"POLICE! STOP" Elliot yelled. The guy in the black jacket and beanie didn't stop. Elliot felt his lungs about to burst and his legs burn as he tried to keep up; he was in shape, but running was never his thing. He saw Olivia out the corner of his eye. She sped past him and tackled the Ephraim Reyes to the ground, giving Elliot enough time to catch up. Panting, he got out his cuffs and slapped them on the suspect, reading him his Miranda rights. "Nice tackle, Liv." He shot out as it started to rain. He looked to his partner, Olivia was bent over, elbows on her muddy knees, coughing hard. "Liv?" he questioned, thinking he wasn't going to be able to handle the perp, who was still struggling, and a downed partner.

She waved him off and stumbled through the rain over towards a tree, still coughing. Fin and Munch strolled up the path with a group of uniformed officers followed by a squad car. "So which one of you collared him?" Munch asked, scanning the scene.

"Olivia" Stabler grunted as he shoved the man in the black jacket into the back of the car.

"Even with the swine flu, my girl's got legs" said Fin as he pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to Olivia, still coughing under the tree. "You owe me $50, John" Olivia was still bent over, still coughing. She couldn't catch her breath. Her lungs burned and her head felt like it was going to explode every time her abdominal muscles contracted, pushing the air out of her lungs. She leaned back against the tree trunk of the old oak, thankful for something to lean against and the slight break from the rain, though she could already feel the cold water soaking through her clothes. The water helped and she slowly caught her breath, looking around the scene. She saw the uniforms milling about, looking for something to do to avoid heading back to their patrols. And she saw her colleagues staring at her. She stood up quickly, fighting off the wave of dizziness that hit her.

"You okay?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah," she replied, a little breathless still. She wouldv'e paid a lot of money for some Tylenol about now. 'God, the flu sucks' she thought. Thinking of how nice her warm and dry apartment sounded about now, she forced some energy into her voice "Let's get this over with and get out of the rain."

Still in the wet running clothes, they all headed back to the station. Sitting in the passenger seat of one of the police sedans, she was thankful to just not have to move for 5 minutes. The drive was too short and when they pulled up in front of the 1-6 she sighed and used the door frame to pull herself out of the car. Her head was still spinning, made worse by the sudden movement required for her to pretend nothing was wrong.

Elliot followed her up the stairs into the stain, both of them flashing badges at the security guard without missing a step. Olivia flopped back into her chair and ran her hands through her short, wet hair, watching Fin and Munch pushing an angry looking Reyes into the interrogation room. Coughing again, she got back up to pour herself a cup of coffee, the smell made her stomach turn but she needed something to keep herself moving. She hadn't eaten anything all day, between the sore throat and the nausea and the constant cough, it just didn't seem worth the effort.

"Good job, guys" Cragan announced as he walked in, followed closely by ADA

Alexandra Cabot. "Clean arrest, no trouble."

Munch snorted, "I dunno about that Cap, my shoes are pretty muddy and Liv looks like she fell in a mud puddle" Cragan looked at his detectives and smirked as Alex followed him to the interrogation rooms. Fin got up and followed them.

"We can charge him for the three assaults, two kidnappings and the attempted murder for the second victim" Alex stated, looking at the man covered in mud in the interrogation room. "Get a confession and it's even better," she said, directed at Fin.

The three of them turned and headed back into the bullpen, figuring a little time alone in the wet clothes might soften their guy up a little more.

"What's with that situation?" she asked, gesturing with her chin towards Elliot and Olivia's desks. Elliot was talking on the phone, arguing with someone. Olivia sat, looking pale, a little sweaty, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. She looked sick and miserable.

Fin replied "Olivia's got some flu bug, won't go home. I thought we were going to have to call a bus for her in the park. She wouldn't stop coughing. Still beat Elliot in a foot race though." He said, grinning.

Cragen eyed the situation careful as he walked back into the bullpen. "All of you, go change out of those wet clothes before you track the entire precinct full of mud. Elliot, you and Munch get the reports from the ME's office to match to our guy, Fin you get a confession out of him. Olivia, as soon as you finish your report, Go Home."

She looked up. "Captain, I don't need to go home, just a quick change." She stood up from her desk and started forward only to stop when she started coughing again.

"No." he said, "You are going home. That's an order. The last thing I need is my whole squad out with the flu. And for god's sake, somebody get her some cough syrup."

3PM

Olivia heard the knock on the door and fought to open her eyes. Her eyelids were scratchy and felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. Sitting up on the couch where she had been sleeping with an open file on her lap, the files slid to the floor. Swearing, she stood up and grabbed the side of the couch for support as another dizzy spell slowed her down.

The person at the door knocked again. "Olivia?" came the call from the door.

"Coming!" Olivia croaked, making her way to the door, wrapping an old sweater with a hood around her and hoarding some tissue in her pockets.

Opening the door she saw Elliot standing at her door with a manila file and a brown paper bag. "You look terrible, " he said, following her back into the apartment.

"That kind of flattery will get you nowhere" Olivia replied, with a stuffed up nose. "What are you doing here?" She sat back down on the couch and gave another cough.

"You have pillow lines on your face" Elliot said with a grin. "I'm glad you were getting some sleep."

She glared at him, "What are you doing here, Elliot?" He handed her the files he was carrying. "You only filled out 2/3 of the activity report from this morning. You skipped page 2 and 4. We need your signature on it to file against Reyes today."

She sighed. "Sorry, I guess my head was a little foggy this afternoon." She pulled a magazine from the table to write on and took the pen Elliot offered her. She curled her feet onto the couch, resting the files on her knees, back against the armrest of the couch. He put his hand against her forehead.

"You're burning up." he said.

She shrugged his hand away. "Knock it off, Elliot."

He walked into the kitchen as she completed the rest of the paperwork. "I'll make you some tea" he said, picking up the kettle, filling it and setting on the stove. He opened her fridge, sighing at the contents. A jar of olives, probably because she liked dirty martinis, some condiments and a container of milk that he wasn't brave enough to open were all she had.

"Olivia, you have no food in this apartment." He looked over at her when she didn't respond with some snide comment about take out and delivery service in New York. Her eyes were closed, head drowsily lying on the back on the couch cushion. He stood there staring at her, not wanting to wake her up but not having any other good option. The tea kettle began to whistle and she stirred, solving that dilemma. She started coughing, sitting up and adding her uncompleted paperwork to the pile on the floor. He moved the kettle off the stove and poured a cup into the waiting mug with a tea bag. Olivia was still coughing, a wet sounding, hacking cough, gasping for air between each cough and she showed no sign of stopping. He was just starting to get worried when he remembered the brown paper bag he had brought. Reaching into it, he pulled out a bottle of cough syrup, leaving the rest of the contents on the counter.

"Here," he said, opening the bottle and pulling out the plastic measuring cup it comes with. "How much do you weigh?"

"What?" She squawked at him between coughs, looking at him in shock. What was he thinking? He looked surprised, "Huh? You know, you measure it out, so many teaspoons for so many kilograms". She looked back at him exasperated and coughed twice.

"That's for children, Elliot. Give me that." She grabbed the bottle and drank three swallows directly from the bottle.

"Hey, watch it" he countered, trying to grab the bottle.

"It's over the counter cough syrup, El, I'm not going to overdose on it."

She screwed the lid back on and left the bottle on the kitchen counter next to the bottle of Tylenol and a digital thermometer that had also been in the bag. Sitting back down on the sofa she grabbed the paperwork and started trying to stack the files in a neat pile in frustration. He picked up the file with the incomplete Activity Form.

"Here, finish this and we'll get you back into bed." She huffed and complied.

Elliot walked back into the kitchen to get the tea. She signed the form and followed him, shrugging the sweater tighter around her. Her head felt foggy, her head felt so hot but the rest of her was freezing, her yoga pants, camisole and the knit hoodie sweater were not doing the job. Her head was still pounding, the headache never left and she was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. Her nose felt stuffed and she could feel the pressure moving up into her forehead. Even her teeth hurt. She just wanted Elliot out of her apartment so she could be miserable in peace.

"Here's your form. Will you get out of here now?" she said accusingly.

She knew she was being a jerk, he was just trying to help but she was sick of being treated like one of his daughters when he wasn't bitching at her about work. He looked at her and she looked back at him, obviously pissed off. He thought she looked absolutely miserable, like she wasn't going to be on her feet much longer. He walked around the counter and grabbed her by the shoulders and walked her back to the couch, grabbing the thermometer on his way. He sat her down on the couch and gave her the thermometer and said "Open up." She glared at him again but took the thermometer. The thermometer beeped after a moment and he pulled it from her mouth as she scooted herself down onto the couch.

"102.8. Good grief, Olivia."

"Leave me alone, Elliot" she mumbled as she curled into the sofa cushions, pulling an old quilt around her and closing her eyes. He pulled two Tylenol from the bottle and left them next to the tea on the coffee table.

"I'll call you later." He let himself out of the apartment, glancing back at the brunette hair barely visible on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the precinct, the detectives moved around their desks, answering phones, finishing paperwork. Elliot finished his last file and blew the air out between his lips. He looked at his watch, 6:27pm. He had to get to Dickie's school play by 8pm. Given traffic getting out of Manhattan on a Friday night, he had 10 extra minutes at most. He grabbed his jacket and stalked into the Captain's office. "Cap, I gotta run, school play and whatnot"

"Fine," the Captain replied, with a wave, not even looking up. "See you Monday." He lifted his head. "Hey, how's Liv?"

He made a face that was a cross between a grimace and a grin. "Miserable. She had a high fever and barely moved from the sofa when I was there, but she'll be fine. She's a tough one. I was going to stop by on my way out of the city if I had time."

"Go" he said. "Let me know if there are problems".

He knocked on her door hesitantly, not wanting to wake her again if she was asleep. When he didn't get an answer he pulled out his keys. He had a spare she had given him a while back for emergencies. Letting himself in he called "Olivia" in a low voice. The apartment was silent, but he could see shadows from the TV on the wall. The TV was playing an old black and white movie, muted. Olivia was still on the couch, asleep. She had taken off her sweater and slept in her camisole. She looked flushed, but was sleeping soundly. Her dark brown hair barely showing at the top of the quilt that has half on, half off, tangled around her legs. The files that she had dropped earlier were in a neat stack on the table. He looked at the other contents of the table, the bottle of cough syrup was half-empty, the Tylenol was gone and the mug was empty. 'Good sign' he thought. Not wanting to wake her, he let himself back out of the door.

7:50 PM NOVEMBER 15

Elliot rushed into the school auditorium and noted the old, musty smell.

'These old Catholic school buildings always smelled the same, they never changed.' He thought. He found his family sitting toward the front, a seat saved for him between Lizzie and his wife Kathy. Kathy smiled at him "Right on time." She said, handing him the program. He smiled and settled into the seat.

A few hours later they settled into the house with the typical noise of a family with 4 teenagers. Kathleen and Maureen went directly up to their rooms, probably already whining to their friends about being forced to see a 12 year olds school play instead of being out on a Friday night. Lizzie and Dickie were arguing about something, with Dickie still with his stage makeup on.

"Hey Dad," Lizzie called, "Are you coming to my soccer tournament tomorrow?"

"Yeah baby. I'll be there." He looked up and Kathy smiled at him. "I'm off the entire weekend, on call tomorrow night only."

3:00 PM NOVEMBER 16

"So do the star of the school play and the MVP of the soccer tournament want to stop for ice cream on the way home?" Elliot asked from the driver's seat of the old minivan. An uninterrupted day with his family didn't happen very often and he wanted to take advantage of it. A chorus of repeated yeses filled the back seat. He could never understand how those two kids were louder than another other 6 children he knew.

30 minutes later he pulled onto their street as his phone rang. Glancing at the number he swore under his breath as he picked it up.

"Captain, this had better be good." In the back sitting the twins exchanged glances and in the passenger seat Kathy sighed. Elliot took a deep breath.

"Okay, fine, I understand. Fin! Really?" The others in the car couldn't hear what was being said on the other line. "Okay, okay" he conceded. "Hey, you didn't call Benson did you?"

"No!" Came the voice on the line. The others in the car could clearly hear that. "I'm not crazy."

"Good, I don't want her sitting all night in a squad car spreading her cooties around. Allright, later Cap."

"Elliot, what was that about." Kathy asked as they climbed out of the car.

"Stakeout tonight. I have to go in, but not until 10pm. I'll be back in the morning. It's pretty low key, but they are short manpower."

"Why didn't you want Olivia to know?" Kathy inquired. Elliot looked over at her as the twins threw down their bags in the kitchen and ran off. "Get back here and pick up your things, you two!"

He spoke as he pulled out the newspaper and spread the pages around the table in the kitchen. "Olivia's got the flu, she got sent home from work yesterday. Fever, cough, the whole thing. If she got wind of this she'd drag herself out of bed to join. As much as I don't want to spend 8 hours in a car with Fin, I definitely don't want her there."

"Poor thing" Kathy said moving around the kitchen as Elliot settled in to the paper.

"Does she have anyone looking after her?"

Elliot looked up at his wife from the paper he was reading. "I stopped in yesterday afternoon, brought her some Tylenol, but I don't think so."

"Hmmm." Kathy replied as she began pulling out pots and pans.

"Cooking dinner already?" Elliot asked, trying to figure out what she was doing. "No, I'm making soup. You can drop it off at Olivia's on your way to work tonight."

As he was crossing the bridge into Manhattan later that night, bag with two containers of soup in the passenger seat, he picked up his phone and dialed

Fin. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey Stabler, you coming to get me or what."

"Yeah, I'm on my way into the city. I'm going to stop by Olivia's and then I'll swing uptown to get you."

"That's ass-backwards man. The station is uptown, Olivia's is downtown and so is the stakeout. You're on the bridge. Get to the Westside, pick me up and we'll hit Liv's on our way back down to the site. "

"Fine." Elliot replied, questioning the wisdom of bringing Fin along into Liv's apartment. Thinking about what Kathy had said earlier. _"That girl never had a mother who would take care of her when she was sick as a kid. She probably doesn't even know what to do for a flu bug. " _

_"Olivia's a grown-up ,Kathy, she was fine yesterday. She'll get through it."_

_"Of course she will Elliot, don't be daft. Just because you CAN do something perfectly well on your own doesn't mean that you want to. "_

Shortly thereafter Fin was climbing into the front seat. "Here," Elliot said, handing Fin the grocery bag from the front seat. "What's this?" He replied. "Having your partner's back means doing their grocery shopping too? Don't tell Munch."

Elliot snorted at him. "It's soup. Kathy made it. I think she is trying to compensate for Olivia not getting the special treatment from anyone when she's sick."

Now it was Fin's turn to snort. "Knowing Olivia she'd rather have everyone out of her way so she can be miserable in peace. You know, I think I'll stay in the car while you go up. I've seen her mad, I don't want to see her sick AND mad."

They pulled up in front of Olivia's building, parking in the loading zone with their police permit. Fin got out the car. "Changed your mind? Not so chicken after all, huh Tutuola?" Elliot jabbed as he jogged up the steps.

Recognizing the doorman/security guard who waved them up, the two men climbed the three flights of stairs to Olivia's apartment.

Knocking softly at the door Elliot called quietly "Olivia! It's Elliot." They both listened quietly for any sign of life coming from the apartment. It was quiet.

Inside Olivia stirred on the sofa. She'd spent the night tossing and turning in bed. Too hot, too cold, sweating, shivering. She doubted she got any sleep at all. The couch seemed to be working out a little better for her. She had the pillow over her head, which was still pounding. She closed her eyes and willed herself back to sleep. At least then she didn't know her body was aching so badly. She heard the knock at the door and groaning inwardly, turned deeper under the comforter she'd dragged from the bed around 5am. She thought she heard a voice calling and slowly began to remember an earlier conversation with her partner, something about a stakeout with Fin in order to get some soup. It wasn't making any sense and she didn't remember the details. She heard the knock again with the voice. It was definitely Elliot's.

"Hold on" she managed to throw out there, which caused her to cough twice. She looked down at herself, in lounge pants and only a tank top, she grabbed a sweater that was lying on the back of the sofa, shrugged it on and ran her fingers through her short hair. It was probably standing on end but she was beyond caring. She reached the door just as there was another knock.

"Hey" she said, opening the door for Elliot and stepping back. "Hey Fin." She didn't understand why they were both here, but she didn't really have the energy to discuss the fine points of personal privacy.

"Liv, you look terrible" Fin piped up as they followed her into the apartment. She turned around to glare at him.

"I don't remember inviting either of you over here so I suggest you work on making yourself welcome, not insulting me." Elliot glanced over at Fin with a "told you so" look.

"Hey, Kathy made you some soup. She can't stand the thought of someone being sick without someone to smother them with kindness." He pulled out the thermos of soup. "Feel like eating anything?" She had gone to sit down on the sofa. "No" she replied. "I don't feel like doing anything except being miserable. Alone." Olivia practically huffed the last word in their general direction.

"When was the last time you ate or drank anything? You need something to get through the day or your never going to feel better," Elliot said, still holding the thermos.

She glared at them. Willing her brain to work. "That was awfully nice of

Kathy. Tell her thank you for me," She said in a tired voice. In her head she was slightly stunned that someone would make her soup. She wracked her brain trying to remember if her mother had made her anything when she was sick. She vaguely remembered being sent home from school as a child, her mother picking her up and fawning over her, which lasted until mid afternoon when, convinced she wasn't dying of anything dramatic, her mother left her with some crackers and went for a drink.

"Elliot" she looked up at him, "Don't you have to get to Dickie's soccer play or something tonight? Kathy will kill you if you miss it."

He chuckled slightly at her words. "A soccer play? No, his school play was last night. It's Saturday, Lizzie's soccer tournament was today. MVP!" he said proudly.

"Oh" she replied, slightly confused. "Today is Saturday? What time is it?"

"Almost 830pm" Fin replied, coming from the kitchen with some of the soup in a coffee mug. "You know you have absolutely no food in this apartment?"

She glared at him. "If all you came to do was insult me and my living arrangements, you can see yourself out now." She began digging around in the sofa cushions, looking for something.

"What do you need, Liv?" Fin asked.

"My phone. I have to make a phone call."

"Here, on the table" He handed her the phone. She grabbed it from him. "Thanks" she said as she began to dial a number.

"Hey, it's Olivia" she said when someone picked up the line. "Yeah, I know, I've heard that a few times already today. I look even better than I sound." The she was silent for a minute listening to the other end of the line. "No, I'm okay, really. I just need a raincheck for tonight. Yeah. "She paused. "If you say I told you so I am never going on another date with you." she said with a slight smile. Another pause. "Allright. Okay. Thanks."

She hung up the phone and stood to place it on the counter. Elliot and Fin were staring at her.

"What? I couldn't just leave him stranded in Little Italy with no word could I?"

"Who was that, Liv?" Elliot asked as he walked her back to the couch, pulling the blankets back over her lap. "A friend." She replied. "Stop snooping."

Fin finally handed her the soup. She smelled it. It was almost appetizing, but her stomach still rebelled, flip flopping uncontrollably. She took a small sip waiting for her stomach to climb out her throat. Nothing happened. She just sat there for a minute, trying to decide what to do.

Elliot grabbed the mug and brought it up to her mouth. "A little more. There. See, you haven't forgotten how after all." She glared at him. She sipped the soup slowly as Elliot and Fin filled her in on the latest case.

About 10 minutes later she had lost interest in the soup, letting the mug rest on her crossed legs in front of her and was starting to feel her eyes drooping again as Fin stopped talking. "So now here I am having to spend 8 hours in the car with your partner."

"Lucky you. I'm sure you would rather be there than here with the death flu." She set the half full mug of soup on the coffee table and leaned back, pulling the blanket further around her. Elliot eyeballed her as she shrugged down into the sofa. Her eyes were glassy and she was still pale and sweaty. He grabbed the thermometer.

"Here" he said to her, gesturing towards her with the thermometer.

She took the thermometer but didn't do anything with it. "It's just going to say the same thing it's been saying all day: Sick. Don't bother." she said as she turned away from her colleagues.

"Quiet. " he barked, grabbing the thermometer from her hand. "Under the tongue."

"You're bossy. Go to work" She said with a wave, gesturing towards the door.

"After the temperature" said Fin.

"You guys are both too bossy, leave me alone." She demanded, but she put the thermometer under her tongue.

After the beep she grabbed it and glanced at it. Elliot tried to grab it and missed as she pulled her hand away, only to have Fin grab it.

"103.4. Olivia!" Fin said.

"What? I told you," she said "Sick." She pulled the blanket over her and started to slide down on the sofa.

"No joke." Said Fin. Grabbing the bottle of Tylenol and Motrin, he poured out two of each. "Take those every 6 hours, you can't have a fever that high for that long. How long has it been that high?"

"I dunno." She said, "Maybe since last night." She was getting tired of arguing with them. The soup wasn't sitting so well and her head, face, teeth, everything hurt. She closed her eyes and rested her head forward, as if admitting defeat.

Elliot looked at his watch and then at Fin. They were running out of time. "Okay, you win. You sleep, you drink more soup and some water and take the Tylenol. We'll call later, and I'll stop by in the morning."

She didn't pick up her head, but she waved her hand at them, trying to get them to leave. To her relief she heard them walk away and close the door.

"That is one sick cop." Said Fin as they walked down the hallway. "Think she'll be okay?"

"I dunno. I've never seen an adult have a fever like that. My kids, yeah, all the time when they were little, but not an adult. I'll call Kathy, she's a nurse, she'll have some idea."

As they pulled up to the stakeout, Fin radioed to the previous stakeout car. They pulled up behind an unmarked white sedan as it pulled out of a parking spot on the residential street and they pulled in.

"That's our building" Fin gestured to a brick building on the left, 2nd floor, apartment on the left. " Two windows with curtains had lights on peaking through the cracks. "He's been in there all day, hasn't budged. Chances of him leaving in the dark of night?"

"Slim." Stabler replied. As he settled down into the seat. He flipped his phone around in his hands, trying to decide if he should call Olivia to check on her or call his wife and ask what to do.

He opted for Kathy.

"Hey, it's me. Yeah, stakeout central. Uh huh. Of course I will. She's okay. Kath, she's got a really high fever, she didn't look that good...103.4...Yeah, I know that's high. What should I do?" There was a pause as Fin watched the building with one eye on Elliot.

"Yeah, she ate some of it, took some Tylenol and Motrin. I don't know if she's been taking it all day. No. Yeah, okay. I'll call you in the morning. Love you too."

Finn glanced over at him, not truly taking his eyes off the brownstone.

"So?"

Elliot sighed. "Not much help. If she was breathing and eating and drinking and in her right mind, able to walk around, there wasn't much more to do. She said to stop by in the morning and call her. If the fever was still so high I should make her go to the doctor."

Finn snorted. "Chances of that are practically non-existent. She'd have to be unconscious to agree to that I think."

3AM

"There's our guy!" Finn said, as someone in a grey trench coat left the house. "Where could he be going at 3AM?"

"Nowhere good. Let's grab him"

A few hours later back at the precinct, Stabler threw a couple of files onto his desk, grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

"Stabler!" He heard a voice call from behind. Fin was jogging to catch up with him.

"You stopping by Benson's? You call her?"

"Yeah, I'm heading there. I haven't called her. It'll just either wake her up or make her mad."

"Yeah, okay. Let me know if you need anything"

"Yeah, thanks. Kathy is going to meet me later if there's an issue"

"Hope that there isn't one. Later, man" as he turned back into the bullpen.

Elliot walked down Olivia's hallway, thinking he was getting too old to be working the overnights like this. Knocking softly on the door, he didn't bother waiting to hear if she responded before he used his key to open the door. He opened the door slowly and tread quietly into her apartment. In the early morning light the apartment looked the same as it had the night before except Olivia wasn't on the couch. "Liv?" he called softly. He glanced at the bedroom door that was open only a crack. He'd never been in her bedroom before, it seemed kind of like an invasion of her privacy in a weird way. It was the symbol of all the things in her life that she didn't share with him. He stood next to the door and pushed it open slightly

"Liv?" he called again. Not hearing an answer he pushed the door open further. He could see her tangled in the sheets on the bed, pillow covering her head. Still no answer came from that shape. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Olivia?" he said a little louder, getting slightly concerned that she wasn't responding "Benson! Wake up!" That got her up.

She shot up into a sitting position so fast her head almost clocked him on the chin, he'd been bent over her, trying to reassure himself that she was breathing. Sitting up, breathing heavily, she looked at him.

"Hey," Elliot said "How're you feeling?"

"Was it necessary to wake me up to ask me that? I was happier when I was asleep."

Elliot cringed. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. "I told you I would stop by on my way home."

"Well, you can go Elliot, tell Kathy I'm fine. She called last night and I told her the same."

"She called?" Elliot asked?

"Yeah, not that long after you left. I think you scared her. She said she was checking up on me."

"Sorry about that." He looked at Olivia. She looked like she was about to faint, her normally olive-toned skin was pale, she had circles under her eyes. He lifted a hand to her forehead. She shrugged it off and threw the comforter aside as she slid out of the opposite side of the bed towards the bathroom. She moved so fast he barely noticed that she wasn't wearing pants, only the tank top and a pair of underwear. She either didn't remember or didn't care. She was normally pretty modest, excepting the call girl undercover job and the time she'd gotten caught while he was undercover and had taken off her shirt to convince the smugglers she was just a bootie call. He shook his head and went into the kitchen to avoid that situation on the way back from the bathroom.

He set the kettle on to make tea and saw the soup in the refrigerator.

"Olivia, do you want some more soup or just tea?" Not getting an answer he walked down the hallway towards the bathroom and bedroom. Hearing movement in the bathroom he asked again "soup or tea?" The only answer he got wasthe sound of his partner getting sick.

"Liv? You allright?"

"Yeah, fine," she hollered. And then more sounds of vomiting coming from the bathroom. He opened the second bathroom door that led into the hallway. He saw his partner kneeling in front of the toilet, lid down, head on her forearms bent over into a small ball. Beads of sweat doted her pale forehead as she glanced up at him. She put her head back down. She was tired of arguing, tired of putting on a front. She just didn't care anymore. She didn't care that she was practically in her underwear, didn't care that she'd appear weak or unable to care for herself in front of Elliot, didn't care what he thought. At least not right now, she didn't.

Elliot leaned over the sink and grabbed the cup, filling it with cold water. He looked down at her, set down the cup and reached down, pulling her up so she was sitting on the toilet. She didn't argue as he handed her the cup and said "swish and spit, then drink." She made a face as she did, he could almost see her willing her stomach to behave. She began to tremble and she leaned her head forward onto the sink.

"Hey, hey, let's go, back into the bed" he said to her as he lifted her by the shoulders. She stood and swayed a little, pushing his arm off of her as he tried to steady her. She didn't want his assistance; she really didn't want him to see her like this. She was torn between really wanting to give in and let herself fall apart or to push him away for self-preservation. Her skin was clammy as he held her shoulders, he could see her neck glimmer with the shine of the fever sweat.

Guided back to the bed, she tucked her legs up into her chest and pulled the blanket around her. Putting his hand to her forehead again, he noted that while the rest of her might be cold and clammy her face was still hot and dry. He went into the other room to search for the thermometer. Not finding in on any of the surfaces he's expected: coffee table, bar counter, kitchen, he gave the room a once over. He found it on the floor near the kitchen, right about where it would be if someone threw

it from a reclined position on the couch.

He grabbed it and a bottle of ginger ale he'd brought from the vending machine at the station and headed back into the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later, he was stretched semi-reclined on her sofa when the buzzer rang. Hearing Kathy's voice, he buzzed her up and opened the door slightly.

Kathy entered the apartment, really curious as to what she would find. She didn't know much about the woman her husband spent so much time with.

Elliot had shared a little about her past, but very little about her personal life. She looked around the modest one bedroom apartment. It was good sized for Manhatten, a galley kitchen with an open bar into the living room, bathroom and bedroom off the right hand wall. She was on a corner and had a lot of windows. It was neat, but not spotless, surprisingly it seemed what she would expect from the times she had met Olivia. She saw her husband on the couch, a blanket on the floor next to him with a trash can full of tissues, obviously left from before. He stood up when he saw her. "Hey. Thanks for coming.".

"Of course," she replied. "She's sleeping?".

"Yeah" Elliot replied, rubbing the sleep from his face. "I woke her up when I got here and she was pissed. She puked a couple of times and went back to bed. She still had a fever, I gave her two Tylenol but couldn't get her to drink anything more.".

"How high?" she asked.

"103. Better than last night but not by much."

She nodded and walked toward the bedroom. "Kathy, she's mean when she's sick. Don't say I didn't warn you. He grinned at his blond wife following her into the bedroom.".

"Its okay," she grinned, "I'm sure I've seen worse."

Kathy entered the bedroom, lit only by the soft morning light. The shades were open but it wasn't bright enough to bother Olivia, who was still under the covers in a ball. Kathy sat down slowly on the side of the bed, placed her hand on Olivia's shoulder. She patted her gently, watching her uneven, hoarse breathing and the color of her skin. She didn't like the sound of that rattle in her lungs, but she seemed to be sleeping rather comfortably considering the circumstances. She shook her a little harder and said her name. Olivia stirred and turned over. She cracked her eyes open. Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to process what was going on. Kathy had her hand on her wrist, taking her pulse. She pushed herself up onto her elbows as she tried to make sense of the situation. 'Was Kathy Stabler in her apartment?' It seemed like it was morning, her stomach ached but there wasn't the active nausea she had felt earlier. She coughed twice and flopped back down onto the bed, finally noticing Elliot behind Kathy looking nervous.

"Kathy? What are you doing?" she asked, finally deciding it really was Kathy. The blond pushed Olivia's short hair back out of her eyes, briefly noting how hot she was without lingering.

"Elliot called me. I think you scared him with that fever and the puking."

She growled slightly under her breath, frustrated at her hovering partner.

"Ughh, he shouldn't have. I'll be fine, just need to sleep it off, which I could do if people would stop waking me up to ask how I am." She glared at both Stablers.

"You're right" Kathy said, directed towards her husband, "She is mean when she's sick." Kathy picked up the thermometer and put it in her mouth.

Olivia complied, slightly shamed by being called out on her behavior but mostly too tired to argue. After the beep, Kathy glanced at it and placed it back on the bedside table.

"Still over 103. Quite the flu you have here Olivia. How is your breathing? Do you feel short of breath at all, like you can't breathe? Or is it just a cough?"

"Um, I think just the cough, as long as I don't walk too fast." She was feeling a little less groggy now, she pulled herself up until she was sitting up in the bed. She realized she didn't have any pants on. 'How long had that been going on,' she wondered. She vaguely remembered Elliot helping her out of the bathroom last night. She cringed as she sent a prayer that it was after that. She felt flushed at the memory, suddenly ashamed at how she had let herself look so weak in front of her partner. She coughed a few times as Kathy watched her, then stood up.

"I'm going to get you something to eat. Do you want tea and toast or soup?"

Kathy said, heading out of the bedroom.

"Tea, I guess. Thanks."

She looked over at her partner. "Your wife is much better at waking someone up than you are. I wish you hadn't called her," she said, slightly embarrassed. He shrugged "Too bad." he said as he followed his wife out of the bedroom, leaving her alone.

Kathy made herself at home in the kitchen, pulling out the bread she had brought with her, remembering Elliot's comments about how Olivia survived only on takeout. Elliot joined her in the kitchen. "So?" he asked.

"I think she is fine right now, I'm a little worried that it's pneumonia not just the flu with such a high fever, but right now I think she is fine. If anything changes in her breathing she should go get an X-ray at the ER, but for now we just keep her hydrated, and keep her from yelling at us."

Elliot looked at his wife making tea in his partner's kitchen, his heart swelled with love for her, appreciating that she understood Olivia was important to him.

Back in the bedroom, Olivia sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed, spying her pajama pants on the floor. Now even more embarrassed that Kathy Stabler had seen what a slob she was, she slid out of bed, slid the pants on and padded towards the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face, the cold water felt so good on her hot skin, and grabbed her toothbrush. Feeling like a new person, she looked in the mirror and took in her pale skin and dark circles under her eyes. Suddenly overcome by a feeling of lightheadedness, she sat down on the edge of the tub.

"Olivia?" he heard Elliot call as he poked his head around the corner. She still held the wet toothbrush in her hand. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine" she said, standing and walking back into the bedroom. She headed toward the living room but Elliot stopped her and directed her by the shoulders back to the bed.

She climbed back into the bed just as Kathy walked in with a plate of toast and a little jam on the side in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

"I hope you didn't find that toast in my kitchen." Olivia said, as she took the plate. "Thanks" she said, dipping a corner of the toast in the jam.

"Nope" Kathy said, "brought it from home. Look Olivia, you need to take care of yourself. You're fine now but this can turn into something ugly if you're not careful. Elliot, can you grab me that bottle of water and ginger ale from the kitchen?" He left the room leaving the two women alone.

Olivia had nibbled on the toast, but really wasn't interested in eating anything. The tea was a little more palatable. "Seriously Kathy, thank you for coming, but I'll be fine, just..."

Kathy cut her off. "Yeah, I know, you cops never like to admit defeat, but listen..." and she proceeded to give the brunette a little lecture on how much to drink, to take the Tylenol as directed and when she needed to go to the doctor if things got worse.

"So drink all of this today" she gestured to the water and ginger ale

Elliot had brought into the bedroom. "And call if you need anything else.

Understand?"

Olivia nodded as Kathy stood and left the bedroom, "Come on Elliot, leave her alone."

He looked at her before following, "I'll call you later, holler if you need anything, understand?"

"God, yes! Now please just go." She replied huffily. She appreciated the help, but she was used to being on her own, taking care of herself, the thought of having other people hovering over her drove her nuts, especially if one of them was Elliot. ESPECIALLY Elliot.

She curled down further into the bed, lying on her back and thought about why Elliot annoyed her so much when she knew his intentions were fine. The anger that bubbled just underneath the surface was unusual for her. Finally nailing down why she thought she reacted that way, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. It was an unsettled sleep, troubled by fever dreams, frequently waking her in a sweat.

Her dreams tripped over each other, running from one into a different dream. Finding her mother cold and frozen at the bottom of the subway stairs, trying to wake her, only to have her face turn into the face of an unknown prostitute. Elliot getting shot, then growing tall over her repeating the fight they'd gotten into during the Gitano case 'I can't always be looking over my shoulder making sure you are all right,' and then staring at her with a gun held to his head as a baby cried in the background, which they went looking for and found buried in the sand at a Long Island beach. She woke up panting again and again, which led to coughing.

Around 5am she got up to use the bathroom. Her chest hurt when she breathed, hurt worse when she coughed. The thermometer was reading

103.8. As she settled into the couch, unwilling to try to sleep any longer, she concentrated on breathing without making it hurt. Sometime around 7am she got up to make some tea and had to stop halfway into the kitchen to catch her breath. Leaning on the counter, she grabbed her phone and dialed a number.

Monday mornings in the Stabler Household were always a bit chaotic. Elliot loved it. He wished he could be around more often, when he worked the later shift he didn't need to be into work until 11am, which gave him some time to savor the chaos before leaving. The twins sat at the table eating the eggs he had cooked while the older girls ate toast and frantically finished work they should had done the night before. The phone rang just as Kathleen's ride honked at her, she had to get into school early for her honor's class. Kathy grabbed the phone and walked into the other room as she answered. Elliot could hear her voice, but not make out the words entirely.

"Okay, no I'm in the other r... do you want me... you're sure?...what about...no, i won't...it's fine. promise you'll...okay, bye now." Kathy walked back in to the kitchen and placed the phone back into the cradle as she topped off her coffee.

"Everything okay?" Elliot asked her.

"Yeah, fine. Just someone confirming carpool plans for this week." Kathy replied, a little proud of herself of thinking up such a fib on the spot.

"At 7am? Busy people." Elliot replied, looking at the clock. "Get going you two, he gestured towards the twins. Unless you can convince your sister to drop you off, you have 3 minutes to catch your bus." The twins grabbed their coats and bags and ran out the door, followed by Maureen hollering her goodbyes. Suddenly the house seemed so quiet. Elliot poured himself another cup of coffee. He figured he had a few more minutes before getting ready, which still left him time to stop by Olivia's on his way to work

Two and a half hours later, driving off the bridge into Manhattan Elliot snapped his phone open again as he hit redial. After a moment he snapped it shut as the call when straight to voicemail. Slightly concerned since Olivia wasn't answering her regular phone either, he drove a little faster towards the West Side.

Pulling up onto her block, he counted himself lucky as he found a parking spot on her block. He walked quickly towards her building, getting the doorman to let him in. Up on the 4th floor he knocked quietly and not hearing an answer, he pulled out his keys.

"Olivia!" he called as he entered slowly. The apartment was quiet, but nothing seemed different from the day before. The sofa had two blankets half hanging off of them, but was empty. Pushing the bedroom door open, he was surprised to see an empty bed. "Olivia!" he called again a little louder. The bathroom was empty as well. He pulled out his phone to call, to see if her cell phone was there. Straight to voicemail again. He gave the apartment a once over and didn't find any clues. He was really starting to worry now. 'Where the hell had she gone and why? Byherself?

What was she thinking?' He called the precinct and reached Fin.

"Nope, no clue." Fin replied to his questions. "She's not here and she hasn't called. When did you last talk to her? Uh huh, no idea. I'll ask around."

Elliot could feel the anxiety crawling up his skin. Something was not sitting right. He was still talking to Fin on the phone as he exited her building, and as he did so noticed a familiar form getting out of a cab at the curb. "Hey, found her. Gotta go." He snapped the phone shut as he walked towards the cab.

Olivia pulled her coat and scarf a little closer around her against the cold wind as she juggled cab fare and the papers she was carrying. Not noticing Elliot until he was right beside her, she jumped a little as he grabbed her purse before it fell from her hand.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, sounding a little more angry than he had intended. "You had me worried sick."

"Ever hear of calling?" she snapped back, taking back her things as she walked into the building.

"I did," he said, "5 times. Check your phone."

Grabbing her phone she saw the missed calls. "Damn," she said. "Sorry, I guess there was no service."

"Where were you?" he asked again as they rode the elevator. She was dressed in yoga pants, the same hoodie sweater, but with her winter coat and scarf, she looked almost put together until you noticed her pale skin and glassy eyes. Still, he had to admit she looked better than the last time he had seen her.

"The ER at Mercy," she replied, knowing that he would find out eventually and that it would be better to just get this argument over with.

"You went to the ER?" he replied, incredulous. "On your own? By yourself? What happened? Why didn't you call me?"

She snorted, "Call you at 6am, at your snug little house in Queens and make you drive into Manhattan in rush hour to drive me 8 blocks? No way. I don't need you doing that."

"What's wrong? Why did you need to go to the hospital?" he ignored her jab that it was too far to come. They weren't done with that argument but he wanted to make sure she was okay first.

"It started hurting, and I couldn't catch my breath, I..." she kind of trailed off, she didn't want him to know any more of the details.

"So? You should have called me! So what did they do? Are you okay?" he demanded again.

"Yeah, Elliot, I'm fine. They took some X-rays, gave me some IV fluids and some antibiotics, gave me a couple of prescriptions and sent me on my way."

She gestured towards the papers and paper bag in her arms.

He took the papers from her and glanced at them. "So you're fine? A trip to the ER and now you're all fixed up?" she could hear the sarcasm and ire in his voice. He glanced over the papers, reading from them. "Bilateral lobar pneumonia. Good grief, Liv." He looked at her concerned, he should have known a flu wouldn't kick her ass like that. She turned away from him and stalked down the hallway, pulling out her keys and opening the door in one even motion.

"Look Stabler," she spun around inside her kitchen. He knew she was pissed when she went last name on him. "I've been taking care of myself for 38 years now. I don't need you or Kathy to check up on me, I can clearly get myself where I need to be. I don't need or want you to be here."

She grabbed the papers back from him as she entered her apartment. Dumping her belongings unceremoniously on the counter, she fought off the lightheadedness. She felt a lot better after the drugs and fluids she'd gotten at the hospital, but she still felt worse than any other time she'd been sick. She wanted him gone so badly, he couldn't see her like this, couldn't know how bad she felt, enough damage had already been done. He wasn't going to trust her again. It would take years to get back on good footing, years she felt she didn't have in her.

"You say that now, but yesterday...Yesterday, Liv, you could barely form a complete sentence," he flung back at her.

Her heart sank. It was too late, she'd already lost it. He'd never trust her again, would always be looking over his shoulder. They wouldn't make it through that crisis again. She could here his voice echoing in her head over and over. "I can't keep looking over my shoulder for you." She thought they had gotten over that, but now she knew they wouldn't ever be over it. She swore at herself in her head for ruining this, the one thing she had been able to depend on. Her mother had taught her not to depend on anyone, she could get by without anyone. She didn't want to, but she could. I was easier than always being someone's second fiddle. Elliot was her partner, at her side and watching her back at work. She cared for him greatly, but he had a family. He couldn't be her partner AND her family. She thought about the date she had cancelled. He was a nice guy, but she hadn't known him long enough to depend on him. Elliot was still standing in her kitchen. She wished he would just give it up and go, take the hint, she didn't want him here, didn't need him, and mostly she didn't want to need him. She needed him as her partner and he couldn't be both for her. She'd have to make him see that. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and it didn't have anything to do with being sick.

"Go to work, Elliot, before you're late. I'm fine. Don't call me, I'll call you later." He noticed that her face was still pale, her cheeks flushed and she held on to the counter like it was holding her up. There was a new stoop to her shoulders, almost as if the fight had left her. She was a good actress, but not that good. She stormed off into the bedroom and pushed the door closed and swore when the old latch failed and it swung open again.

Elliot stood a little stunned in the kitchen. 'She must be feeling a little bit better.' he thought, but at the same time felt that such an abrupt change in character was being caused by something else. Something pushed her buttons. He followed her into the bedroom, knocking as he entered. She'd gone into the bathroom; he could hear the water running.

"I'm leaving now. I'll call you later. You call if you need anything."

He didn't get a reply and figuring he wasn't about to poke a caged animal, left the apartment.

In the bathroom Olivia sat on the toilet, lid down, head in her hands with the water in the sink running. As much better as she felt, she was still exhausted. Hoping the things the doctors had done at the hospital was enough to allow her some sleep, she peeled off her sweater and scarf and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Back at the precinct, the day seemed to be moving at a pretty average pace, officers and detectives came and went. Elliot was pretty proud at his ability to sort through most of the paperwork, distracted as he was. He'd called Olivia's twice and she hadn't answered either time. He figured she was either too sick to answer, sleeping, or still pissed at him for something.

He grabbed his phone and dialed again. It went to voicemail again. He left a message this time telling her in no uncertain terms he would call again in 10 minutes and if she didn't answer he was going to stop by her apartment on his way home.

The next time he called, he was rewarded with an answer on the first ring.

"Elliot, I'm okay. You know, I haven't gotten more than 2 hours solid sleep all day, thanks to your calls. Leave me alone."

He cringed, not even a cursory hello. We'll, she sounded okay, still prickly, but not on death's door. "Just checking. Answer your phone the first time and it wouldn't be a problem." He cringed inwardly this time, he sounded a little more pushy than he'd meant to, remembering her miserable face from this morning. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Elli-" he heard her protests as he closed the phone.

"Was that your partner?" Munch asked, coming around the desks with a stack of files.

"Yeah."

"How'd she sound?"

Elliot shook his head, "Still sounded like shit, but better than she did yesterday. You know she went to the doctor today? VOLUNTARILY? She went on her own this morning, didn't even ask for a ride." He paused. "She's pissed at me." he said to Munch, wondering if the older man had any insight.

"Why is she mad? Sick of your overbearing nursing skills? Give her a break, she's probably exhausted from trying to be tough in front of you." Munch replied snidely.

"Being tough in front of me? What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot asked.

"Come on, Elliot," he walked around the desk towards the younger man.

"We're not blind here," he said quietly. "Ever since that kidnapping case with Gitano, you guys have been walking on a wire around each other, each trying to prove that you don't need each other. Liv's sick, she's not at her best and she doesn't want you to know it. She thinks you won't trust her to have your back if you've seen her puking her guts out."

"Oh, come on, that's ridiculous. The streets are totally different than getting your ass kicked by pneumonia."

"I'm not saying it makes sense. I'm just putting my money on her being pissed at herself for letting herself look like she can't handle things."

"Seriously, that's not Olivia. She's not like that," he countered, thinking Olivia is 'exactly' like that. When did Munch get so smart. "And here I always doubted your advice when it came to women."

"Women?" Munch snorted, "I'm not talking about women, I'm talking about

Olivia. She's a whole different breed."

Back at her apartment, Olivia through the phone down on the sofa in disgust. Her head was still pounding as she coughed. She padded into the kitchen and poured some water. Sipping the cool liquid, she opened the fridge and eyeballed the container of soup, noticing for the first time the loaf of bread on the counter that Kathy Stabler had left there. She sighed, wishing she could take back the past three days. She grabbed the soup container and a mug and popped it in the microwave. Losing herself in her thoughts as she stood in front of the microwave, she felt profound regret at how she'd acted. Letting her head drop to her chest, she massaged her temples. At least should could breathe now, she'd worry about fixing her partnership, if possible, tomorrow.

She grabbed the soup and headed back to the sofa. She curled up and made herself comfortable, sipping the soup. She drank about half of it and set the mug down on the coffee table. She turned into the back of the couch and fell into a restless sleep.

Joining his family at the dinner table, appreciating the chorus of surprised hellos from his children, kissing Kathy he served himself and listened to the stories of the day. After the kids had scattered, he started carrying dishes to the sink with Kathy.

"How's Olivia?" his wife asked, giving him the dirty pan to wash. "Ugh.

Yeah, she's doing better I think. Better enough to bite my head off when I tried to check on her today."

"Oh?" Kathy asked vaguely. "That's good to hear."

"You know, she went to the ER this morning? I don't think she even would have told me if I hadn't been there when she got back."

"The hospital? Is she okay?"

Elliot looked at his wife out the corner of his eye. She was a bad liar.

"She said she was, doctor took and X-ray and gave her antibiotics for pneumonia, sent her home." He glanced over at Kathy.

"Good" she said. "I was afraid they were going to make her stay."

Elliot's head came up. "You knew! You knew she was going to the ER. That was her on the phone this morning! Why didn't you tell me!"

"She asked me not too, Elliot. Look, she called the house phone, not your cell phone. She asked me not to tell you. She told me she was getting short of breath and her chest was starting to hurt. She said the fever had been going up all night. She sounded really worried. I told her she should go to the ER, they'd do an X-ray and make sure everything was okay. I offered to come get her but she refused. And she made me promise not to tell you."

"What is wrong with her?" he asked, very annoyed at his partner. He looked at his wife.

"Honestly, I think she called me because she didn't know who else to call and she knew I would know what to tell her. I don't she wanted to call at all, but she was worried. She probably didn't want you to know how sick she was." she said.

He stared at his wife. That was almost identical to what Munch had told him. "So all of a sudden she doesn't want me to know what's going on?"

"Well," his wife replied. "I doubt it's all of a sudden, it's probably just the first time you've noticed." Kathy noticed her husband pick up his cell phone and spin it around in his hands. "Don't call her Elliot, she knows how to take care of herself, give her some space. She's embarrassed, she doesn't need you hovering and making it worse."

He spun his phone around in his hands again as he contemplated what Kathy, and earlier Munch, had told him. He remembered the Gitano case that Munch had mentioned. He'd let that case get to him, seeing those kids, letting that boy die. He'd taken it out on his partner, said things he didn't mean. He thought that she knew that he didn't mean those things, but maybe she didn't. Olivia had told him once that she'd stopped letting what others said to her influence what she thought about herself. Years of listening to her mother taught her that, she had said. He wondered though, if she truly felt that way, or if she just thought that in her rational mind. He knew knowing something was true wasn't the same as truly feeling something was true. He groaned inwardly in frustration. He didn't like thinking that he'd hurt his partner, and that she was still hurting over it long after he'd thought they had resolved things.


	4. Chapter 4

_Turns out the story is going to be nothing more than a little fluff….That's whatcha get for writing before you have it all planned out…_

By Tuesday morning, Olivia had perked up, started to feel like her old self again. She still tired easily, got winded before she should, but she was able to straighten up her apartment, and place a couple of calls to work. So far she had avoided Elliot, convincing him not to check in on her. She wondered if his wife had had a hand in that. He'd called her once on Tuesday morning, just a casual sounding call. He'd sounded so genuinely unconcerned she'd called him back to forestall any further visits. She'd called the precinct and talked to the Captain about work. She'd asked for some paperwork, some old cold cases, something to pass the time and he'd refused. She'd call again later and get Munch or Fin to bring her something to do.

She was bored. Staring out the window, the wind was whipping past her windows, blowing the last of the brown leaves off the trees. A newscaster on the TV in the background was talking about the wind complicating the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Suddenly realizing what day it was, she swore under her breath. Thanksgiving Day was in 2 days. She always worked the major holidays. It was a win-win situation for her. Her colleagues got to spend the holidays with their kids and she had an excuse to avoid either spending the day alone or avoiding awkward invitations from well meaning friends or colleagues who didn't want her spending the day alone.

She picked up her phone again and dialed John Munch. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hey Olivia!" he replied. "Good to hear from you. Feeling better?"

"Much, thanks. Hey, are you still working on Thanksgiving?" She and John had a tradition on the holidays. Both of them without a family tradition they had created one of their own on Christmas and Thanksgiving, sharing some potluck and a roasted turkey picked up from a local deli.

"Sure am. You abandoning me this year?" he joked.

"No, that's why I was calling, to confirm we're still on. I'll be on desk duty for the next week but I'll still be there." 'Screw Cragen,' she thought, 'I can ride a desk at work as well as I can at home, and then I won't have to be alone on Thanksgiving.'

The last few years of her mother's life they had tried to begin a tradition, at least a lunch at one of the New York restaurants that offered a holiday meal, but they were always fraught with the depressing history and her mother's excuse to use the holiday to indulge in an extra drink or 7. The few holidays she'd shared with John at work were the only pleasant holiday memories she had. She didn't want to miss that AND she needed to have firm plans before Elliot remembered, she didn't want to end up the tagalong for the Stabler dinner.

"You sure? It sounded like you were down for the count. Elliot said you were pretty sick?" Munch questioned, knowing he was going to lose the battle, and kind of wanting to. He didn't want to spend the holiday alone either. "Okay, talk to you later, Liv. We'll confirm details tomorrow."

Elliot's ears perked up as he heard the last of Munch's conversation as he walked into the bullpen. "That my partner?" he asked the older man. "Yeah, that was her. Sounded like she was feeling better, been hounding us all day to drop off some work for her at home. Says she's bored."

"Sounds like her." He had talked to her that morning and she had almost sounded like her normal self. He'd stop by her place later tonight, drop off some files, see if a conciliatory gesture would soften her up a little.

It was on the late side by the time he left the station, he had a few files to drop off at Olivia's. He pulled out his cellphone to call his partner, but she didn't pick up. He wondered if he was still getting the cold shoulder or if it was coincidence. Betting she was at home, just ignoring his calls, he headed the few blocks towards her apartment. Jogging up the stairs, he pulled up a little short as he entered the 4th floor and saw a figure leaving Olivia's apartment.

He was tall, slender, dark hair, he turned to leave as Olivia closed the door, not seeing him down the hallway. He nodded briefly to the stranger, wondering if this was Liv's mysterious date she had cancelled on over the weekend. The stranger nodded back, pretending he didn't recognize the man who he'd seen in the photo Liv had on her fridge. He figured this was the overbearing partner that Olivia was complaining about. He knew there was a complicated history there, she hadn't shared the details, but he could guess part of it. He wondered if he'd hear about the visit. Olivia didn't share much with him, but he figured someone had brought her soup and bread and the medications.

Elliot waited until the man was down the stairs before knocking on her door. She answered relatively quickly, looking a hundred times better than the last time he'd seen her, directly home from the ER. She was wearing some yoga pants, an old grey tshirt over a longer sleeved white one. She was losing the circles under her eyes.

"Elliot." she said, surprise in her voice. "What are you doing here?" she opened the door to allow him in.

'So far, so good,' he thought. "You look better," he offered, seeing if she would take the bait. She shrugged, not doing so. He tried again. "Munch said you were bored, I brought you some of the cold case files to review." She looked up at that, interested.

"Yeah? I figured I was doomed to another day of bad daytime television. Thanks!" she reached out and tried to grab the files, which he pulled back.

"How're you feeling?" Maybe he could hold the files hostage and get some information from her.

"Better." she said quickly. "Look, Elliot, can we just forget all that. I didn't mean..."

"Hey," he interrupted, "Don't worry about it. You had me worried there for a minute, but I knew you'd pull through. My partner won't let a little bug kick her ass. It would have to be something big time. Like pneumonia." He placed the emphasis on that word, needling her a little on purpose.

She snorted at him in derision. "Are you going to give me those files or did you just come her to be a pain in my ass?"

"Well, I do enjoy being a pain in your ass, but here." He handed her the files. She took them and set them on the counter, out of his reach.

"When will you be back at work? Working with Munch and Fin all day is starting to get kind of old. I don't know how those two stand each other." Elliot said.

"Ha. I am sure they are saying the same thing about you. I'll be back the end of the week, I'll ride a desk until Monday." Please, please don't bring up the holiday. She didn't want to fight twelve rounds with him about that.

Thinking about what Munch and Kathy had said, he said something he normally wouldn't have. "You working Thanksgiving again?"

"Yeah" she acknowledged. "Dinner with Munch and the rookies at the station." Elliot only nodded in reply.

"Okay then." He turned to leave as Olivia stood there a little shell shocked at his acceptance of her response. He turned before he got to the door and looked at her. "Look, Liv, I'm sorry if I was too pushy earlier. I was a little worried is all, I know you can take care of yourself, but worrying about those that are important to me is what I do. I doesn't mean I think less of you, understand?"

Still shocked, she stood there in the hallway with her mouth half open. Where is the world did that come from? Who had given him that piece of advice? She knew that couldn't have come from his own mind, but since she believed he meant it, she let that go.

"Uh, yeah, thanks." She nodded at him.

"So we're good?" he asked. "Can we go back to normal?"

"I dunno about that, normal for us was a really long time ago, but we're good." She smiled and shut the door behind him. Elliot jogged down the steps, his feet and heart feeling a little lighter. When things were right with Olivia, everything else seemed right as well.


	5. Chapter 5

_"So we're good?" he asked. "Can we go back to normal?"_

_"I dunno about that, normal for us was a really long time ago, but we're good." She smiled and shut the door behind him. Elliot jogged down the steps, his feet and heart feeling a little lighter. When things were right with Olivia, everything else seemed right as well._

Back to Normal Chapter 5

Olivia spent the rest of the day and the next day happily reading through cold cases and dozing off into frequent cat naps. She still wasn't sleeping great at night, a lingering cough kept her up, but she was making do. She'd even had some groceries delivered so she had some food to eat, though she didn't have much of an appetite. The antibiotics they had her on made her nauseous. Elliot had called her twice and she hadn't answered either time. Distance was her strategy. Whenever things got too close, she backed away. It was a strategy born out of self –defense and had served her well over the years. It kept her from getting hurt, but it also kept her from enjoying many parts of life as well. She preferred not to thing about that part.

She'd called Munch on Wednesday night to confirm the next day's potluck at work. She hadn't told Cragen she was coming in starting Thursday, but he'd find out soon enough. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Thanksgiving morning she woke up tired, as she had been all week, and slowly went about her morning routine. Halfway through her shower she started feeling lightheaded. She turned the hot water down a little and got her bearings. Exiting the shower she wrapped herself in a towel and sat down on the bed to catch her breath. This was going to be harder than she had thought. Stubborn as always, she got back up after 5 minutes and continued, albeit slowly, to get ready for work.

Thirty minutes later she left her apartment, eschewing the stairs for the easy ride of the elevator. Waving to the security guard, she wrapped her scarf around her and left the building. She was winded and coughing before she got to the corner. Looking uptown 4 blocks to the subway, because her 20 minute walk to the precinct was definitely not going to happen, she made a quick decision and hailed a cab. The few days inside her apartment had fooled her into thinking she was better than she was. It was easy to feel well when you could lay down and take a 15 minute nap every few hours, whenever you liked. She relaxed back into the corner of the cab, taking the chance to rest before having to get out again. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade was complicating traffic on the Upper West Side and the cabbie dropped her off two Avenues away from the station. Pulling her scarf closer around her she trudged slowly down the street, stopping at least 3 times per block. By the time she got to work, she was exhausted. She was starting to fear that this had been a bad idea. She made it inside and fiddled with her phone, leaning up against the window, using it as an excuse to rest for a minute. After she caught her breath, she walked very slowly towards the elevator, looking at the screen of her phone, pretending to be distracted to cover her obviously slow steps.

Standing in the elevator seemed even harder than walking. She never noticed how _long_ that elevator took to go 3 floors. She felt a sense of relief when her desk came into sight. She'd never been so happy to be on desk duty in her life.

She survived the morning, the parade on the tv in the background. She felt her eyelids feeling heavy. She looked upstairs longingly towards the cribs. She could totally catch 20 minutes upstairs and no one would mind, but the stairs looked insurmountable. Just as she was about to just lay her head down on her desk, she heard a commotion at the door. Three uniformed officers were laughing, joking as they entered the bullpen carrying bags of food, she could smell the turkey from her desk. She thought it was probably from a restaurant, but it was still turkey. Unfortunately, her stomach flipflopped inside her, making the thought of eating practically impossible.

Munch had been watching his coworker all day. He wasn't stupid. He knew there was no way she was well enough to be at work. As far as he was concerned she'd hoodwinked him on the phone and should be in bed.

Everyone gathered around the food, cases momentarily forgotten. Olivia managed to make herself a plate and grab another seat. She picked at her food, stomach rebelling, feeling miserable, but determined to not act like it. She smiled at the jovial nature of the conversation and played along. After what she considered an appropriate time of socializing, she grabbed her still full plate of food and walked with it back to her desk.

She sat at her desk, staring blankly at her computer, plate of food forgotten. She picked up the file and forced herself to concentrate on the words in front of her, which starting swimming as her eyes attempted to focus.

Across the room, Munch was enjoying his second helping of turkey and watched Olivia closely. He was going to have to do something about that. Just as the thought crossed his mind, one of the uniforms came up to him and gestured towards her hunched figure. "What's with Benson? You gonna take care of that situation or what?" the uniformed officer asked him. Munch looked over his glasses at the younger man. He was a good cop, someone who noticed things and then said something about it. He'd go far if he wanted to.

"Why? You wanna try?" Munch replied sarcastically.

The uniform got a wide-eyed look on his face and stammered his denial, he thought it was a little funny that Munch was going to have to bear the wrath of Detective Benson, he didn't want to have to do so himself.

"Don't worry, Morales, I'll take care of it. She looks too sick to argue anyway... Hey, save me a piece of pie. Pecan. And pumpkin, one of each," he ordered as he set down his plate and walked towards Olivia's desk.

She was rubbing her head, looking pale, circles showing under her eyes. She looked like shit. If possible, he thought she might even look worse than she had when she'd been sent home last week.

"Hey, Benson, grab your stuff, we gotta go," he said to her, grabbing his own things from his desk.

She looked up at him slowly, as if she hadn't quite registered his words.

"Come on, let's go." He grabbed her jacket and handed it to her, she fumbled a bit with it and grabbed her bag.

"Where do we have to go, John? I'm supposed to be riding a desk." her voice sounded dull and tired.

Munch sighed and grabbed her elbow pulling her a big out of the bullpen. In case there was an argument, or otherwise, he didn't want it happening in front of everyone.

"Yeah, we gotta go, Liv. Come on," he repeated, pulling on her a little bit, not quite realizing she was moving as fast as she was physically able. As they waited for the elevator, Liv's chest huffing and puffing, she started to feel lightheaded. She leaned against the wall for support as she asked John again where they were going.

"Home, Benson. I'm taking you home. You're done here and if you argue, I'll tell Cragen. And Elliot." He said it with authority, daring her to object.

Her eyes narrowed at him, especially when she heard his threat to rat her out to her partner, but she kept her mouth shut. When the elevator dinged, Munch reached over and grabbed her elbow again, surprised and then concerned that she didn't pull away. She swayed a little as the stood in the elevator. Munch eyed her uneasily and held tight to her elbow. Neither of them said anything.

Olivia was using every morsel of willpower left in her body to make it to the car. Finally collapsing into the bucket seat, she laid her head back and closed her eyes. She heard the opposite door slam and Munch's voice "Come on, Benson, stay with me. Your selt belt. Now."

She lifted her heavy head and managed to get the belt buckled. She tried to look alert as Munch slid the car into drive, but her body overcame her will and her head slid back to the headrest and her eyes closed. He drove them in silence the blocks to her apartment, pulled the unmarked sedan into the loading zone in front of her building. Putting the car into park, he turned in his seat and evaluated his colleague. She was fast asleep, breathing rapidly, head rested back. Her eyes looked a little sunken and her jaw stood out to him, like she'd lost weight off her frame that she hadn't had to spare. Supressing the urge to feel if she had a fever, he shook her shoulder a little. "Benson," he called.

She opened her eyes and lifting her head, immediately recognizing the outside of her building. "Hey, thanks for the ride, John," she said. "Sorry for ruining Thanksgiving." 'One more lousy holiday for the books,' she thought grimly, unhooking her belt slowly and opening her door. She was moving slowly and by the time she had extricated herself, John had found his way to her side of the car.

"Hey, don't apologize to me, you didn't ruin my Thanksgiving. Let's get you upstairs." He grabbed her elbow firmly again and she shook her head and tried to pull away. As she did so she started to sway a little and he tightened his grip and walked her towards the building ignoring her protests.

In the elevator of her buiding, Olivia said again, "I'll be fine, John, you don't need to go with me. I just over did it a little. You can let go of my elbow!' She had a cranky tone to her voice. Munch just looked over his glasses at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Over did it a little? You haven't done anything besides come to work and sit at a desk and not eat any turkey. You haven't done anything and you're exhausted. I was afraid you were going to pass out on me in the elevator at the precinct."

"I didn't though," She argued back.

"That's beside the point. Am I just supposed to let you sit there until you do? Cragen would have my hide and then yours too."

She didn't reply as she opened the door to her apartment. She turned around thanking Munch for the ride home and assuring him she'd be fine.

"You're sure?" he asked again as he stood at the doorway.

"Yeah, Munch, I'm sure. Thanks again." She turned and closed the door before he had a chance to respond. She dropped her things, shedding her coat and shoes as she walked into the living room. She reached the couch and had her eyes closed before she was fully lying down, She fell into the blackness gladly, without another thought to the outside world.

The next time she opened her eyes, she felt her head aching, her eyes were heavy. She blinked a few times and looked around her dark apartment. She had no idea what time it was; it was hard to tell in the dark. She sat up, body aching after the awkward sleep on the couch with her back twisted. She finally heard a buzzing and beeping sound coming from the hallway. It was probably what had woken her up. She groaned as she stood up, her head spinning and feeling slightly nauseous again. She followed the sound of the buzz and tracked it to her bag, still lying on the floor in the hallway. The buzzing stopped before she got to it, but then started up again. She grabbed the phone out of her bag and leaned against the wall. 'Six missed calls' the screen told her. All from Munch. Now he was calling again.

"Hello?" she answered, with a groggy, scratchy voice.

"Thank god, Liv, I was about to send over a squad car. You allright?" Munch asked. She could hear the concern shrouded in his sarcarsm. "I've been calling for an hour."

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, I was just sleeping. What time is it?" she asked vaguely.

"Almost 8. You sure you okay? Want me to stop by on my way home?"

"NO! I'm fine, I'm sure. Thanks though. I'll call the Captain tomorrow." She ceded that she wasn't going to be able to be in to work the next day. It'd been a full well, she couldn't remember the last time something kept her out of work for a full week.

"Last chance. I'm leaving now."

"No, thanks John."

"No problem. Hey, Benson, take care you yourself, understand?"

"Yeah, I will. Bye" She hung up the phone and closed her eyes, still leaning against the wall. Feeling herself start to fall asleep again, she made it to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, pulling the comforter over her, still in her clothes.

The next morning, Elliot arrived smiling with a cup a coffee in his hand at 8am. He scanned the bullpen and saw Fin working at his desk, the Captain on the phone in his office, Munch was absent, not due in until 11am.. He didn't see his partner, he was expecting her back this morning.

He got to work at his desk, keeping an eye on the clock. By 9am still without any sight of Olivia, he knocked on the Captain's door.

"Hey, Cap. Heard from Benson today? I thought she was due back today..." he asked.

"Yeah, Benson called about 30 minutes ago, said she was taking another sick day, wasn't feeling up to it," he replied, not taking his eyes off what he was working on.

"Really?" Elliot asked. That concerned him. Olivia never willingly asked for time off. She had been pretty adament that she would be back by the end of the week. "That sound odd at all to you?"

"Yeah, a little," the Captain admitted. "But she has plenty of time...if she needs, or wants, to use it..."

"Hmm," Elliot said with a grimace, that did not sit well with him. He thought above giving her a call, but didn't want to crowd her. He'd at least wait until Munch got in, he'd surely have at least talked to her yesterday.

Distracted by the case, the hours moved by fairly quickly. When he saw Munch walk in, he realized the morning was almost over. Moving over to the coffee as an excuse, he greeted Munch, asking platitudes about the holiday.

"Yeah, you know, same old turkey and fixings from Joan's (referring to the cafe around the corner). Good stuff. Plenty of pie," Munch replied.

"You talk to Benson yesterday? She's not here today..." He left the rest unsaid.

"Yeah, she came in for a few hours yesterday, went home early pretty tired. I'm not surprised she took another few days. She looked pretty beat."

"What do you mean, I thought she was better?" Elliot pressed.

"Yeah, so did she, I think, but she still looked pretty miserable. I dropped her off at home around 2 and she said she slept all afternoon when I talked to her last night." Munch felt a momentary twinge of guilt for telling Stabler, but then remember how she'd refused help even when she looked like death warmed over. Maybe she needed someone to bully her a little.

Olivia had fallen into bed the night before around 8pm, without brushing her teeth or bothering to change her clothes. She had bizarre dreams that left her unsettled, but that she couldn't remember. She'd woken at around 730am and managed to change out of the jeans and sweater she was wearing from the night before and into some pants and a tank top. She'd called Cragen, hopefully sounding reasonably well. She'd managed to brush her teeth and down some tylenol along with the scheduled antibiotics, hoping to get some relief from her aching bones. Her throat was soothed by the cold water, but her stomach instantly rebelled. She forced herself not to vomit as she turned back to the bedroom, crawling back into the bed. She moaned quietly as her warm skin hit the cool sheets. She wondered vaguely if she had a fever, then tried to remember the last time she had eaten anything. She couldn't remember before the Thanksgiving meal she hadn't eaten the day before. Maybe the day before that? Her thoughts wandered as she fell back asleep.

Back at the precinct, the Detectives were kept hopping, with a new victim in the morgue and one found along the Westside Highway, likely unrelated, but still enough to keep them busy. Around 5pm, on his way back from the Morgue, Elliot dialed Olivia's phone number. Fin had stayed to get the report from Warner, leaving him free to track down the witnesses. Her phone went straight to voicemail. He left her a message asking her to call him back and let him know everything was okay.

Still asleep, Olivia tossed and turned, tangling herself in the sheets. She woke up coughing, still confused by the dream she'd had. The harder she tried to remember it, the faster the images ran from her mind. She sat up in the bed, her head spinning. She heard her phone ringing in the bathroom, not remembering why her phone was in there. She stood to retrieve it, reaching a hand back down onto the bed to steady herself, head spinning. She walked the few steps to the bathroom and grabbed the phone from the counter where she had left it. She looked at the screen, seeing Elliot's name pop up on the caller ID. The phone went to voicemail as she held it, her brain not working fast enough to figure out how to answer it. She saw the letters swim in front of her eyes, her head spun and she lost her balance. She fell backwards and sideways and into the wall, sliding down onto the ground. Not even trying to fight the fatigue, she gave in to the darkness and closed her eyes, half sitting, half laying on the floor propped up between the wall and her bedroom dresser. The phone hit the ground with a thunk, which she didn't even register, her face pale and dotted with beds of sweat.


	6. Chapter 6

_Still asleep, Olivia tossed and turned, tangling herself in the sheets. She woke up coughing, still confused by the dream she'd had. The harder she tried to remember it, the faster the images ran from her mind. She sat up in the bed, her head spinning. She heard her phone ringing in the bathroom, not remembering why her phone was in there. She stood to retrieve it, reaching a hand back down onto the bed to steady herself, head spinning. She walked the few steps to the bathroom and grabbed the phone from the counter where she had left it. She looked at the screen, seeing Elliot's name pop up on the caller ID. The phone went to voicemail as she held it, her brain not working fast enough to figure out how to answer it. She saw the letters swim in front of her eyes, her head spun and she lost her balance. She fell backwards and sideways and into the wall, sliding down onto the ground. Not even trying to fight the fatigue, she gave in to the darkness and closed her eyes, half sitting, half lying on the floor propped up between the wall and her bedroom dresser. The phone hit the ground with a thunk, which she didn't even register, her face pale and dotted with beds of sweat. _

Chapter 6

After dialing a second time and still getting no answer, Elliot swore at the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. He was going to talk to this witness and then stop by Olivia's. He dialed one last time, hitting cancel before it had even gotten to voicemail. Inside Olivia's apartment, she still lay slumped against the wall, oblivious to the world around her.

Elliot sent up a quick prayer of thanks that the witness was cooperative, signed the statement quickly and had left the precinct before 7pm. Elliot organized his paperwork, leaving the rest for the morning, a little irritated that he had to come in on the holiday weekend. He rushed out the door dialing the same number again and swearing under his breath when it went to voicemail.

Olivia stirred slightly from her cramped position on the floor. She blinked her eyes a few times, trying to figure where she was and what she was doing on the floor. She heard a faint pounding and someone yelling, it sounded like it was coming from outside in the hall. Her head spun again and her she saw dark circles as she lifted her head. In response, she let her head fall forward and left it there. The pounding and the yelling had stopped. Her eyes were closed, but she could still hear what was going on around her to some extent. She thought she heard footsteps and someone calling. She felt someone shake her arm and she opened her eyes, trying to focus on the figure knelt beside her. He seemed familiar, she thought. She blinked a few times and groaned at the pain shooting across her body. Elliot. Her mind finally kicked in. Elliot was at her apartment. And she was on the floor. What the hell had happened?

By the time Elliot made it up to Olivia's apartment, he had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was pounding on her door and yelled her name. He stopped and listened carefully for any sound of life inside the apartment. Satisfied there was none, he pulled out his spare key. He let himself in to the dark apartment and glanced around. He saw her bag and coat lying in the hallway; the sofa was empty. By this point his heart was in his throat, sixth sense telling him he should be more nervous than the previous week when he'd found her apartment empty. Glancing around the living room with a detective's eye, he saw nothing that unusual. He turned into the bedroom and noticed the empty, obviously slept-in bed and in the same instant, saw her legs on the floor, the dresser hiding the rest of her.

"Oh my god, Liv!" He rushed to her side, kneeling down beside her, placed his hand on her arm. He saw her eyes flutter and she let out a groan as she shifted her weight, her forehead creased with pain. She blinked several times. She looked at him, her brown eyes still heavily lidded. "Olivia! What happened? Are you okay? You look...bad.".

She closed her eyes at that and rested her head back. She was too tired to argue. That sent Eliot into a panic. "Olivia! Wake up!".

She struggled to open her eyes. He was shaking her pretty vigorously. It hurt. "Elliot. Stop. I'm awake."

"What happened? I'm calling a bus."

THAT got her attention. "No! Don't! I'll be okay, just um, help me up." She fumbled to find his hand. She found his grasp and used it's strength to pull herself up.

"Shit!" she swore under her breath as her vision started to go dark again. She gripped Elliot's hand tightly, trying desperately to stay upright. Elliot held onto her strong, depositing her sitting on the bed with a quick pivot. She took a couple of deep breaths, ignoring Elliot's demands to know what was wrong. Her vision finally clearing, she looked at him. She'd never seen THAT look on his face before.

She didn't move for a minute, conserving her energy. She was beaten; she had to admit it. There was no way she could stand up without falling. 'What the hell had happened? She'd been doing fine.' She felt Elliot's hand on her forehead and saw a scowl cross his face.

"Olivia?" he was no longer demanding, he just sounded worried. He looked down at her, "Tell me what you are feeling? You're scaring me."

"I dunno, El," she finally said. "I was fine, I went to work yesterday and then I was just so tired. I got dizzy coming back from the bathroom and just had to sit down. I don't know what happened, I've never had anything like this before." She looked down in shame.

"Okay, okay," he said reassuringly. "Just sit there for a minute."

'As if I have a choice,' she thought sarcastically. 'The minute I try to stand up I'll black out again.'

"Do you think you can get to the car? Otherwise I'll have to call the bus," he said calmly.

She looked down at that. 'Like hell she was getting hauled out of her house on a stretcher.' "Yeah, I think so, just, maybe can you get me some water first?"

It didn't do anything to make him less nervous when she didn't argue with him over his assumption they were going to the ER. He hurried to the kitchen and came back with a glass of cold water. She sipped it slowly, appreciating the cool liquid on her throat; she was so thirsty. She was afraid her stomach was going to get upset again, but so far it was okay. She thought she hadn't taken any of the antibiotics in since yesterday at lunch. Those pills made her stomach even more upset. She finished the water slowly and started to feel a little more awake. She had no idea how out of it she'd been until she started to feel better. Elliot was still standing beside her, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Hey, El, do me a favor and grab the black sweater from the second drawer?" she asked. She was self-conscious sitting in front of him in nothing but a low-cut camisole, leaving very little to the imagination. She stood carefully as he went to do as she asked. 'So far, so good,' she thought as she stood, feeling a little lightheaded, but definitely not having obscurations any more. She took two tentative steps towards the closet and reached inside to grab an old pair of red slip on tennis shoes. She was grabbing the doorframe of the closet with white knuckles as she bent to grab the shoes. Seeing what she was up to, Elliot stepped to her side and steadied her, grabbing the shoes from her hand and leading her back to the bed. Much more confidant sitting down, she bent to slide on the shoes. The black sweater still in his hand, forgotten, Elliot tried not to notice the cleavage the camisole allowed as she bent over. His eyes glided to the curve of her collarbone, up to her jaw line and towards her back, bare in just the tank top, wisps of her hair tickling the nape of her neck. The tank top was riding up a little over her low-slung pants and he could see the matching dimples right above her pants. Swallowing once and turning to the side, he pretended to be distracted by her window. Not even noticing how awkward she was making him, she grabbed the sweater from his hands and pulled it on, zipping it up all the way. She took two deep breaths and looked up at him.

He grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her feet, over her apologies. She swayed a little and the sudden change of height and then got her bearings. She apologized again. This had got to be the most embarrassing experience of her life. Elliot grabbed her coat and tried to help her put it on without letting go of her, afraid that she'd fall again. His hand brushed the warm skin on the small of her back as she leaned into him and he was again aware of his partner as a woman.

This made him uncomfortable; he wasn't used to this.

Olivia to him was another cop, someone who could throw a punch as well as she could run down a perp or shoot a bulls-eye from a hundred feet. She was someone he trusted to always have his back, to always cover him in a pinch. He had never really been conscious of her as a woman before. Today, seeing her vulnerable in a way he'd never seen her before, seeing her need help in a way he'd never considered before, made him realize 'Holy shit! Olivia's a GIRL.'

He finally understood, if still didn't agree with, the attitude a lot of the guys had given him when they found out she was his partner, finally understood why Kathy had been uncomfortable with Olivia at first. She needed to get better quickly and go back to busting some balls because this soft and vulnerable Olivia was something he was not prepared to deal with.


	7. Chapter 7

_Today, seeing her vulnerable in a way he'd never seen her before, seeing her need help in a way he'd never considered before, made him realize 'Holy shit! Olivia's a GIRL.' _

_He finally understood, if still didn't agree with, the attitude a lot of the guys had given him when they found out she was his partner, finally understood why Kathy had been uncomfortable with Olivia at first. She needed to get better quickly and go back to busting some balls because this soft and vulnerable Olivia was something he was not prepared to deal with. _

Chapter 7

An hour later, Elliot sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room of the Mercy General ER. He shifted trying to get comfortable and looked down the hall towards where Olivia was on a gurney behind the curtain. They gotten through the line-up at the front of the ER pretty quickly, being a cop helped and luckily one of the nurses recognized them. At the front when they had taken her vital signs, the nurse had said her blood pressure was really low and her heart rate was high, which was probably why she kept almost passing out. She didn't have a fever though, not like before, just a slight temperature. They moved her back to one of the gurneys quickly and he'd been sent to sit on the plastic chairs. Finally, after what seemed like ages, a young nurse came to find him, saying Olivia was asking to talk with him. He stuck his head behind the curtain and found his partner laying on the gurney, her eyes closed while the same young nurse took her blood pressure.

"Hey," he said. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Meh," she shrugged. "Better, I guess, but still lousy. I don't know...I mean. I have no idea what happened today." She grimaced. "Sorry to put you through all this, you should go home, I'll be fine here."

He frowned at her. "No, I'll stay." He looked at the nurse. "How is she?"

"Well," she replied, "her heart rate's a lot better after the fluid we gave her, blood pressure's getting better too. She was really orthostatic."

Elliot looked at her with a blank look. That didn't mean anything to him and the nurse picked up on that. "It means that she was probably really dehydrated, every time she stood up there wasn't enough fluid in her so her blood pressure would go down and her heart rate would go up and 'whoop'" she made a gesture to indicate a fall. Elliot nodded, understanding. She went on "The doctor thinks it's probably a combination of the antibiotics giving her a lot of nausea, and pushing herself too hard, and not taking care of herself. It was like the perfect storm to make her a bounce-back." She gave Olivia a little smile. "But, she's young and healthy, so we'll keep her here for a while and tune her up, and hopefully get her on some drugs that will actually work. She'll be okay." She gave Olivia's hand a little pat and moved on to the next patient.

"See, I'll be fine," Olivia piped up. "Go."

Elliot looked at her like she was crazy. "What? And find you crumpled into a heap on the floor again? No, I'm staying." She gave him a dirty look, but didn't say anything right away.

Eventually, the silence got to her. "Look, El, I feel really bad about making you stay here, I don't need you to take care of me."

He didn't reply, just raised one eyebrow and looked at her smugly. She sighed again and crossed her arms, hugging herself for warmth; she was cold, the fluid they were giving her was giving her a chill.

A doctor came and pulled back the curtain. If possible, he looked even younger than the nurse. He asked her a few more questions and then said "Well, we were discussing your case and we are hypothesizing that the type of drugs we gave you last time were the wrong ones. There's a bad strain of this atypical pneumonia going around; it hits healthy, young women mostly and it's not usually life-threatening, but it certainly feels like it. Am I right?" He smiled at her eagerly. Olivia tried to crack a smile for him; he was trying so hard. " Your body was doing a half-way decent job of trying to heal itself, but it sounds like you weren't helping it out any with poor food intake and trying to go to work and all." He gave her a LOOK that she figured was meant to chastise her.

"So this pneumonia is pretty atypical, so we'll have to give you some different drugs. The ones before were making you nauseous, you said?" Olivia nodded.

"I haven't really been able to eat anything because it just came right back up," Olivia said, slightly embarrassed again. She did NOT like feeling so exposed and vulnerable.

"Yeah, that's an unfortunate side effect, especially because in your case, they weren't working anyway. No wonder you were so orthostatic when you got here. Feeling a little bit better now?" He looked up at the bag of fluid leaking briskly into her arm. She nodded at him.

"Okay, sit up for me, let me listen to you." The young doctor moved over and stuck his stethoscope in his ears. Olivia sat up and leaned forward.

Elliot couldn't help but noticed her bare back, bra strap and the top of her pink lace underwear showing as she leaned forward wearing only the hospital gown, the open back showing each vertebrae of her sinewy back. A little surprised, he tried not to change expressions. He never figured his tough as nails partner to wear pink lace lingerie. Embarrassed again, more at the direction of his thoughts than the rather chaste situation, he took a couple steps towards her feet to get that out of his line of sight. He cleared his throat awkwardly. Luckily, Olivia was too preoccupied to notice. The deep breaths that the doctor made her take caused her to cough again. The doctor nodded, but didn't say anything. He wrinkled his brow a little as he tapped on her back several times.

"Are you having a trouble breathing? Be honest. I can tell you're breathing fast." He gestured toward the computer monitor that showed her heart rate and breathing rate.

She sighed, "Yeah, a little, when I move or talk a lot." She flopped back

"Does it hurt when you take a deep breath or cough?" he asked.

"Yeah, mostly on the right side," she answered, obviously unhappy about it.

The young doctor looked at her, but didn't smile. "We'll get another X-ray and see how you're feeling." He hurried away, leaving the two detectives alone.

The two detectives sat in silence, waiting for the doctor to come back. The nurse came back a few times and fiddled with the monitors, adjusted the tubing and hurried away again. Finally the nurse and one other person came to pull her away to get her X-ray. Elliot squeezed her hand as they wheeled her away.

He watched her go and headed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee.

The coffee shop downstairs in the hospital had closed, so he'd gone across the street to grab a coffee, by the time he'd talked his way past the security guards at the front of the ER and made his way back to where he had left Olivia, 30 minutes had past. He walked into the area where he expected to find her and instead found a crowd of people, hospital staff, doctors, nurses crowded around her curtained area. In a panic, he ran towards it. Trying desperately to see behind the curtain at what was going on, a nurse yelled at him to get out of the way. Another nurse, the young one who'd talked with him earlier, pulled him by the arm out of the way of the commotion as she exited the curtained area and swung it closed again with a swish. He'd seen inside and had seen just the top of Olivia's head in the crowded space, which seemed eerily calm compared to the hallway.

"Come with me," the nurse said, pulling him. "I'll explain what's going on."

He followed her down the hallway about 20 feet, where they had a little space. He'd never felt so powerless. She had an iron grip on his upper arm; she probably knew he'd bolt back to Olivia's side if she let go.

"What's happening? Is she okay? She was just fine? Tell me!" he demanded, trying to sound important and not panicked.

"They saw something on the xray. She had a lot of fluid on her lungs, it was keeping her from breathing properly. Her oxygen levels were dropping. Down at xray she started really struggling to breath and once they saw all that fluid, they figured they should take it out." As she was explaining what had happened, Elliot saw the commotion down the hall dissipate and a few seconds later it was as if nothing had happened. "They put a needle and probably a tube into her lung to drain the fluid. It looks like they're done; you should be able to see her in a second. Wait here and I'll go check; I'll send the Doc to come talk with you." She guided him back to the uncomfortable plastic chair he'd been waiting in earlier. He sat, not taking his eyes off the curtain, his coffee completely forgotten in his hand.

The doctor came over a few seconds later and sat next to him, explained basically the same thing that the nurse had just said. He said that she had a lot of fluid sitting on her one lung and that it was no surprise she was feeling so badly. In fact, he'd been surprised how good she'd been for so long – she'd been tough.

Elliot smiled at that. "Sounds about right," he said.

"Yeah, she strikes me as the type who thinks she is too tough for her own good. I do have a question for you though, she wasn't really in a spot to answer but you might know, you work with her, right? NYPD?" the doctor asked.

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Has she ever had any rib fractures, particularly on the right side?" the doctor asked.

Elliot thought back. He shook his head no. "Well, wait, a year or two ago she got kicked. There was this perp who was running and she was closing in on him, he spun around and kicked her once right in the side, must've knocked her 6 feet. He had on these giant work boots. Knocked the wind out of her. She limped around for weeks with sore ribs. I don't think she ever went in to the doctor. She refused, said they wouldn't do anything for broken ribs." Elliot remembered the nasty bruise Olivia had refused to show him but that he'd caught a glimpse of in the locker room once.

The doctor was nodding at Elliot as he told that story. "Makes sense," the doctor said. "It looks on xray that she had some old, healed rib fractures on the right side. Most likely when she broke them it also caused a very small part of her lung to collapse. Not big enough that we would do anything about, she's right about that, but having a previous collapsed lung puts you at higher risk, so it's not as surprising that she came in like this. Good call bringing her in. She would've been in big trouble at home." He patted the detective on the shoulder and stood to hurry off, telling him he could go see her now.

He stuck his head past the curtain and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her whole, completely intact. There were no bloody bandages, no chaos, just his partner lying on the bed, eyes closed, breathing slowly, but looking pale. "Hey," he said as he stepped forward. He grabbed her hand. She turned her head towards him when she heard his voice and opened her eyes slowly.

"Heyyy," she said slowly, her voice a little slurred. "You came back? They gave me some stuff..." She picked up her hand and gestured vaguely.

"Liv.." he said quietly, sounding concerned. "What happened?"

She closed her eyes again. "I dunno. I couldn't breathe again and it hurt so bad every time I coughed. They said there was fluid in my lung and they had to take it out. They stuck in a needle to pull it out." Her words were slightly slurred, he thought she seemed doped up from whatever the doctor had given her. She made a face and turned to try and look at the tubing that was still sticking out of her skin around her lower ribs. She grimaced and hissed at the pain with all the movement. She stopped trying to look at her side where it went inside through her skin, but glanced at the small bag slowly collecting with fluid. She grimaced again and lay back, breath catching with the pain. She looked at him with bewilderment in her wide brown eyes.

"What the hell, Elliot? What the hell is happening?" she asked him.

"I dunno, Liv. You got dealt some bad luck." He patted her hand awkwardly. They usually didn't touch. Physical intimacy wasn't on the agenda as partners, much less than physical familiarity. "You'll pull through, too stubborn not too according to the teenaged doctor over there."

She smiled at him briefly. "As long as one of us thinks so." Her words drifted off as her eyes closed despite her best efforts.


End file.
